- Pick up the soap.
Nervous, Thunderclaw looked around to make sure there was nobody behind him, and then awkwardly reached down to pick up the bar of soap. He had to try again a few times, on account of his perpetual clumsiness, but eventually managed to finish washing up properly. Satisfied, he switched the water off and stepped out, grabbing for a towel from the rack...
There were no towels on the rack.
Hadn't there just been a stack of towels on the rack?
Suddenly, there was a sound like the crack of a whip from just behind him, and red-hot pain seared across his spine. "Wooh-hoo!" Shouted Firedemon, bursting out of cover from the benches. "Dance, Dunderpaw! Dance!" He snapped the stolen towel again and again at Thunderclaw, each time with the same impeccable vigor and efficiency. Behind him, Tim stood in the far corner, looking uncertain and rather unimpressed.
Not again...
Then, something unusual happened. The rising tide of crushing despair building up behind his eyes gave way to sudden, blinding rage. The last straw had broken the bearer. The last drop had overflowed the glass. The last stick had collapsed the jenga tower. All pain and fear gave way and disappeared beneath the flood of anger, and Thunderclaw...
- Charged. (Attack FD)
- Did nothing. (Do nothing)
- ???